0 Comments
0 Shares
0 Views
0 Reviews
Directory
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Please log in to like, share and comment!
-
The Wistful VoyageThe letter sat on the desk, its edges soft from handling, the ink faded to a brownish gray that matched the dust in the corner of the room. Elias Thorne read it for the third time, his thumb smoothing the crease where the paper had been folded, a habit he had developed during the long, silent years of grading papers for the Imperial Academy. It was a notification from the Director’s office,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant GardenI "Entry 402: Tincture of Regret, Grade A. Submitted by A. Bellini. Status: Pending Review." The ink on the parchment was still wet, a dark pool that seemed to drink the light from the lamp room, and Assunta Bellini watched the Chancellor’s clerk dip his quill with a slowness that felt like a blade being sharpened. The room was cold, a damp chill that seeped through the floorboards and into the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale Bridge"Stop it. You’re going to burn the whole place down." I looked up from the valve, my fingers slick with condensation that tasted of copper and old pennies. The boiler room of the textile mill hummed, a low, rhythmic thrum that I could feel in my teeth, in the hollows of my cheeks. I was twelve, and my skin was translucent, stretched thin over the machinery of my own anger. Outside, the white...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale DoorChapter One Knowledge is a debt that does not compound, but it does not forgive. I stood before the Pale Door, my twelve-year-old hands gripping the iron handle, the metal cold enough to burn. The steppe wind stripped the moisture from my lips, and the frozen earth beneath my boots felt less like ground and more like a sheet of glass over a deep, dark cellar. My father had been taken for fraud,...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded PhotographI The canal town of Mýto woke not to the sun but to the creak of timber and the wet slap of oars against the mud, a sound that had beaten in the ears of the lace-makers for three generations before the heat made noon impossible. Josef Jelinek, thirty-two, stood on the catwalk of the engine room, his hands trembling not from the cold but from the weight of the paper in his pocket, a ledger that...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Distant PromiseAct I The clock in the wrong tower, that rusted relic of the old mill, had not kept accurate time in thirty years, yet Narges Kian found herself checking it every hour, the pendulum’s sluggish swing a metronome for her own fraying nerves. She stood on the deck of the canal boat, the wood slick with the morning’s dusting, watching the pearling coast stretch out in a haze of grey and gold, the...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Wistful CipherRECEIPT NO. 402. AMOUNT: 12 MARKS. ITEM: TRANSPORT DEBT, UNPAID. Marlene Richter held the receipt against the damp cellar wall, the paper soft as skin. The flood had reached the third step again, lapping at the hem of her coat. She needed the pension. The pension meant the flight attendant furlough notice would not become a dismissal. The Grey Withering was not a metaphor. It was ash. It ate...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Pale MistThe pen dragged a jagged line across the vellum, a sound like dry leaves skittering over stone. Soledad Loera held her breath, her knuckles white against the weight of the instrument, the ink bleeding into the fiber with a slow, deliberate hunger. The fog pressed against the window of her studio, a thick, gray wall that muffled the distant chime of the town clock, eating the sound before it...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
-
The Faded MasqueradeThe border between the known and the forgotten is not a line drawn in ink, but a membrane of breath, thin and trembling, susceptible to the slightest change in pressure. Hoda Mahfouz stood at the edge of the threshing floor, the heat shimmer rising from the packed earth in waves that distorted the distant city walls, and she knew that the pension she sought was already a ghost. She had served...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Deutsch
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek